Unanticipated Responsibility
by Aeryn Alexander
Summary: (Family Affair (2002)/ not a crossover) When confronted with a crisis, does Sissy have what it takes to take care of everyone else? Please give it a chance! Chapter 6 is up! Complete!
1. Just Fourteen

Disclaimer: Fan Fiction is for fun, not for monetary profit. I own ... a computer (and nothing else worth mentioning).  
Title: Unanticipated Responsibility  
Author: Aeryn Alexander  
Summary: When confronted with a crisis, does Sissy have what it takes to take care of everyone else?   
Rating: PG (Dramatic Situations)  
Spoilers: Really, of course, there are.  
Genre: Drama/General  
Author's Note: The author does not write comedy. Consider that fair warning. The author is well aware that the show upon which this fan fiction is based is a family situation comedy, not a drama. Apparently she didn't/ doesn't care. She also knows that it is affected to refer to oneself in the third person. Please read, review, and request that a "Family Affair" category be added. Thanks!  
  
  
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Chapter One  
  
Just Fourteen  
  
  
  
When Sissy opened the door to her Uncle Bill's apartment that afternoon, returning from school and a few hours of hanging out with her friends, she expected to find French bustling about either in the kitchen or elsewhere and the runts working on their homework or playing in their room. Then she remembered that Buffy and Jody had an after school field trip that would barely have them home in time for dinner and that Mister French was probably on his way back from the grocer's, having mentioned just that morning that they were running low on something or other. Chives, she thought. Uncle Bill, on the other hand, was attending a business conference in Denver and wasn't scheduled to return to the city for another two days.  
  
Sissy, while not the most conscientious of students, especially where tiresome book work was concerned, understood the importance and practical value of reading the occasional book and turning in the occasional piece of homework, not to mention that she tried to set a good example for her two younger siblings. After grabbing a piece of fruit from the kitchen, she tossed her backpack on her bed and started to work on a rather tedious algebra assignment.  
  
After about an hour of pencil chewing and copious amounts of scribbling and erasing, the sound of the front door being opened roused Sissy from her schoolwork induced stupor. The pounding of small sneaker-clad feet brought an instant smile to her face. The runts were finally home!  
  
"Sissy!" yelled Jody, suddenly appearing in the open doorway of her room with Buffy and Mrs. Beasly just behind him.  
  
"Hey guys! How was school?" she asked, moving her books out of the way as they pounced on her bed.  
  
"It was great! We went to Mrs. Rosetti's bakery and watched her bake bread." Buffy answered.  
  
"I want to be a baker when I grow up!" said Jody with a grin.  
  
"Me too!" said Buffy.  
  
"Wow." said Sissy with what she hoped sounded like approval and enthusiasm. After all, the runts had blown up a goodly portion of Uncle Bill's kitchen on the very day of their arrival in New York, not that long ago. "Exciting." she added.  
  
With that the twins, at Sissy's behest, took their books and things to their own room and started doing their own homework, which was relatively light, while she returned to the algebra with renewed energy. From time to time she could hear giggles from the runts' room that led her to believe that perhaps they weren't working as diligently as she, but then, they were only kids, so she let it slide.  
  
  
Sissy lost track of time after that. Only when she glanced into the hall and realized that it seemed dusky, did she bother to check her watch. It was almost seven o'clock. The giggling in the other room had died down some time ago and the apartment was very quiet. Sissy closed her books and slipped off her bed, frowning thoughtfully as she did so. She walked into the kitchen, which was empty: no groceries and no Mister French. Sissy was almost positive that she had not heard him return from the grocery store or where ever else the butler might have gone to run his afternoon errands. He was running very late, and that was certainly unlike French.  
  
"Sissy?" questioned a voice, Jody's, from the hall.   
  
"We're hungry." Buffy complained.  
  
The oldest of the trio was seldom at a loss as to how to fix the simple problems. She just smiled and walked to the refrigerator as the twins followed.  
  
"Well, guys, maybe I can whip up some sandwiches for us." she suggested as the pair stood watching her.  
  
"Where's Mister French?" asked Jody.  
  
"I don't know. Maybe he ran into someone he knows while he was out." suggested Sissy, not wanting to let on that she was just a tiny bit worried.  
  
Sissy was no gourmet chef, of course, but she had in her younger days become something an expert on making a meal for three on the fly and she heard no more complaints from the twins once the sandwiches were served.  
  
They were halfway through their meal when the telephone rang. Sissy wasn't sure whether to feel relieved or concerned as she slipped out of her seat to answer it. The runts were still munching away happily as she picked up the receiver.  
  
"Davis residence." she answered.  
  
"This is Officer Carmichael. I'm afraid I have some bad news." said the voice on the other end of the line.  
  
Sissy took a deep breath, feeling suddenly ten years old again. She had answered the phone that night too while the baby-sitter was putting Jody and Buffy to bed. That police officer, who had had a thick midwestern accent instead of a New York one, had asked her to find an adult for him to speak with. He too had said something about bad news. Sissy remembered running up stairs to tell the sitter. The baby-sitter, Jamie from across the street, had looked nervous when Sissy told her that a policeman was on the phone. Jamie had told her to stay with Jody and Buffy and to read the two-year-olds a bedtime story. Then Jamie had walked out and closed the door. Sissy took another deep breath and stepped a few feet down the hall before saying anything.  
  
"Yes, officer?"  
  
"Can I speak to an adult? Your parents maybe?" the officer asked. Something in his voice was impatient, but not unkindly.   
  
"Do they all sound like that?" Sissy wondered silently. "I'm afraid Uncle Bill isn't in right now." she told Officer Carmichael. "You'll have to speak to me." she added, mustering all of her confidence just to make the statement.  
  
"Right ..." said the officer. "Well, I need to get in touch with this guy's family and ... the only number he had in his wallet was this one."  
  
"Mister French?" Sissy blurted out.  
  
"Yeah, that's the name."  
  
"What happened?" asked Sissy in a quieter voice, glancing into the kitchen to make sure that Buffy and Jody were still eating and not listening.  
  
"He was hit by a car in a crosswalk. They've got him down at the hospital." he explained.  
  
"How is he?" asked Sissy, biting her lower lip.  
  
"Look, I don't have much information here. I just need to notify his relatives, if I can. Are you his family or not?" asked Officer Carmichael.  
  
Sissy hesitated, but only for a second before answering, "Yes." They may not have been exactly related, but she had come to think of the English butler as part of her extended family.  
  
"Great." said the officer. Sissy thought she could hear him writing something down.  
  
The sound of her own heartbeat in her ears was so loud that she could barely make out the rest of what the officer told her. She just knew that she needed to call Uncle Bill and then get down to the hospital fast. When she hung up the receiver, Sissy tried her best to look and sound calm as she walked back into the kitchen.  
  
"Are you guys done?" she asked them, her voice sounding an octave higher in her own ears. Her voice had a frightened ring to it.  
  
The runts weren't stupid. They could tell something was wrong, so they just nodded, their eyes glued on Sissy.  
  
"Okay. I want you two to go to your room and play quietly for a little while, okay?" she instructed them.  
  
Buffy hesitated in the door and looked up at her big sister as she asked, "Is everything all right, Sissy?"  
  
Sissy was almost glad that they were too young to remember what had happened to their parents, although she had always wished that they had known them better.  
  
"Yeah. Just go to your room, okay?" said Sissy, hoping that Buffy wouldn't ask any more questions.  
  
The little girl, not fooled at all, simply nodded and went to join her brother.  
  
Sissy then went through some papers on the table in the living room, struggling to find the one with her uncle's number on it. Upon locating it, she checked to make sure that the twins had their door closed, grab the phone, and sat down in a chair near the door to the terrace.  
  
The phone rang several times before rolling over to voice mail.  
  
"Bill Davis here. It seems you've caught me at an inopportune time. Leave your name and number and I'll be sure to get back to ya at my earliest convenience." said the prerecorded message.  
  
"Uncle Bill ... it's Sissy. Mister French ... the police called and said he ... There was an accident. Please ... come home ... because I don't think I can handle this. It's ... just like when our parents died. And I don't think I'm ready to go through this again." she said before hanging up and quickly wiping her eyes.  
  
Sissy squeezed her eyes closed as she tried to figure out what to do next. It wasn't easy. She was just fourteen, though comparatively street-wise for a fourteen-year-old Hoosier. She had to get to the hospital. She had to make sure Mister French was ... okay, or at least alive. French ...  
  
"What would French do in this situation?" she asked herself, knowing that the dynamic butler could handle almost anything.  
  
Sissy opened her eyes and managed a determined smile.  
  
"Buffy! Jody!" she yelled, rising from her seat and dropping the telephone on it. The runts came running and looked at her expectantly. "We're going out. We might not be coming back until in the morning, so I want you to pack up all of your school things and a change of clothes and underwear. I want you to do it fast." she told them, fighting to keep the smile on her face as she gave them the instructions.  
  
"Where are we going?" asked Jody.  
  
"Doesn't matter. Just pack. I need you to be ready in five minutes, no more." she said, adopting her stern older-sisterly tone. They knew better than to disobey her when she used that voice.  
  
The pair scampered off instantly while Sissy dashed to her own room to pack a bag of bare necessities for herself. She wanted to believe that French was okay, that he wasn't dead, that he wasn't going to die, that he was just waiting for them to come and get him. But Sissy knew better than to be that optimistic. He had been hit by a car, after all, and that was no small matter.  
  
As she zipped up her own tightly packed bag, the same one she used for school, she considered getting a few things for French.  
  
"He would kill me if I went poking around in his room." she thought, shaking her head. The more practical side of her, however, thought, "But if he's not ... dead ... he'll want fresh clothes. And how hard can it be to put a couple things in a bag for him?" Sissy almost laughed as she thought that. "And who's going to schlep that bag across town?"  
  
The door to the butler's room as unlocked when Sissy finally made up her mind to grab a change of clothes and some other things for him. The room was immaculate, pristine, frighteningly orderly and neat. She could hardly believe it as she set a carry-on bag on his perfectly made bed. She glanced around the room again as she opened his closet. Here was a man whose life was dedicated to order. Her stomach flip-flopped ever-so-slightly as she looked at the mostly dark clothes in the closet.  
  
"I'm not dressing him for his funeral." she thought, berating herself for the mild wave of dizziness.  
  
Sissy grabbed a pair of perfectly pressed khaki trousers and a green-gray knit sweater from the rear of the closet and immediately closed the door. That would have to do.  
  
The more personal items were in a bureau. She chose them with great haste and some embarrassment, tossing them into the bag with the neatly folded outer garments and a pair of shoes she had found tucked beneath bed. She grabbed a razor from his bathroom, unable to imagine French without a good shave, and started to zip the bag. Then she glimpsed his robe, hanging on the bathroom door and grabbed it too. Having once bed hospitalized overnight for a concussion, Sissy knew well the inadequacies of hospital garments. The bag would hardly zip, but it contained everything Sissy thought he would need, and the entire process had settled her nerves substantially.  
  
The runts had dutifully packed their school bags with everything Sissy had told them to and were sitting in the hall, too afraid to go into French's room to get her.  
  
"Is Mister French coming too?" asked Buffy as Sissy made a cursory check of their luggage.  
  
"In a manner of speaking." she said before helping them put the backpacks on and grabbing her own. Sissy hefted the other bag and led the twins out of the apartment, feeling more confident and ready to face whatever lay ahead.  
  
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A/N: I really hate to tack another note onto this story, but ... I don't like children. I haven't spent time with any since I was one. I have also never been to New York. Or a 'lively' arts high school. And factual errors probably abound (for instance, when did the kids' parents die? I couldn't find out.) Oh, and if anyone notices the chapter titles and figures out what they are ... I'll give you special recognition in the end notes. Thanks again for reading!  
  
  
  



	2. Simple Twist of Fate

Chapter Two  
  
Simple Twist of Fate  
  
  
  
Not long after that, in Denver, Uncle Bill was just checking his messages while standing in the hotel lobby after a long business dinner during which he had turned off his cell phone. He had two messages from his office in New York. One from a pretty young woman he had met the night before. And one from Sissy ...  
  
Bill put one hand on the nearest wall to steady himself as he listened. Was she crying? He wasn't sure, but Sissy almost never cried. And French? His head was spinning as he replayed the message to make sure than he had heard right. French had been in an accident. And no one else was there. The message was hardly more than an hour old, but he tried to call the apartment anyway. No one was home.  
  
"Sissy, don't worry, okay, honey? I'll be there just as soon as I can. Tomorrow morning, if I can get a flight. Just take care of Buffy and Jody, and don't worry, sweetheart, everything's going to work out fine. Call me back whenever you can. And ... and ... I promise I'll be home soon." said Bill, leaving message for Sissy before approaching the concierge's desk at his hotel.  
  
"I need a plane to New York. It has to leave in less than an hour, if that's even remotely possible." he told the man. His own plane was in Los Angles for scheduled maintenance.  
  
"Yes, sir." said the concierge. He knew the look on Bill's face. He had seen it before. There was something wrong back home. It wasn't any of his business, but he couldn't help but to wonder.  
  
Bill was looking at the phone in his hand with a dazed expression on his face. There was no one in the city he could call, no one that he trusted that much or knew that well. Sissy and the twins were on their own until he could get a flight back.  
  
"Sir, I have a flight leaving in forty minutes. Will that suffice?" asked the concierge.  
  
"Absolutely. Now call me a cab." said Bill, snapping out of it.  
  
"And your luggage?"  
  
"Can you just pack it up and ship it to me?"  
  
  
It was chilly outside as they stood in front of the apartment building. Jody was holding French's bag while Sissy flagged down a taxi. They bundled themselves into the back as soon as one stopped. Sissy sat in the middle with a twin on either side. The taxi was warm, and the warmth helped to clear her head.  
  
"Where to?" asked the driver, looking at them in the rearview mirror.  
  
"The hospital." answered Sissy.  
  
Both Buffy and Jody's eyes widened at this bit of news. She wished they hadn't heard it. She wished they didn't know what it meant, but they did.  
  
The driver, good at minding his own business, just nodded and sped away from the curb.  
  
The runts huddled closer to their big sister, too young to know what to ask her about their destination. They just knew that it wasn't good. Going to the hospital meant funny smells and mean looks from grown-ups in white coats. It meant sick people, and angry people, and sad people. It meant talking quietly and sitting still for a long time. No, going to the hospital was definitely anything but good. Buffy and Jody could certainly agree on that.  
  
  
At the hospital Sissy paid for the cab and dragged the twins inside before entrusting Buffy with the extra bag. She tried her best to psych herself up to feel more mature, more like someone the lady at the reception desk would feel like dealing with. She pulled a crumpled piece of paper out of her pocket, information Officer Carmichael had given her over the phone. She wasn't sure how much of it was correct given her state mind while talking to him, but it was better than nothing.  
  
"Hi, I'm looking for someone." she told the receptionist. The woman glanced at the two kids standing quietly just behind here. "We're looking for someone." Sissy amended. She passed the crinkled paper across the desk. "He was brought in maybe a couple of hours ago. His name's French." she added.  
  
The woman looked at the scrap of paper and began typing information into a computer. Sissy leaned over the desk to watch, but the receptionist gave her a look that clearly told her to back off.  
  
"Is he your father?" the desk worker asked with the barest hint of concern. It had already been a long evening for her.  
  
"Um, no. Our parents are dead. He just takes care of us." said Sissy, not quite telling the whole truth, but hoping to solicit assistance from the woman under those pretenses.  
  
The receptionist glanced at Sissy and said, "Sorry, miss."  
  
She took the rumpled piece of note paper and wrote down a room number and the name of a doctor on duty.  
  
"Thank you." said Sissy, shoving the paper in her pocket before grabbing Buffy and Jody by the hand. She didn't look at it until they reached the elevator. "I want you two to be on your best behavior." she warned the twins as they began the assent to one of the higher floors.  
  
"Yes, Sissy." the pair answered quietly. They hardly needed to be told that.  
  
  
The hospital corridor in which they found themselves was remarkably quiet. It wasn't like anything they had seen on television. There were no doctors racing through the hall next to gurneys or yelling nurses. The sound of quickly, evenly stepping feet down another hall was the only noise that even registered. A nurse at a big desk nearby watched them as Sissy glanced at her note and then at her surroundings.  
  
"May I help you, dear?" questioned the nurse, who looked rather old and very grandmotherly, not at all like the business-like woman downstairs.  
  
"Yes," Sissy answered with a smile, glad to see a friendly face, "we're looking for a friend of ours."  
  
"I don't recall having anyone quite your age on this ward." said the nurse, reaching for Sissy's note, which she relinquished willingly.  
  
"He's a lot older." said Sissy, momentarily wondering, "Exactly how old is French?"  
  
"Oh, yes, I know the patient you mean. Just follow me. Doctor Swenson is making his rounds right now, and I think you should speak with him first." said the nurse.  
  
Sissy glanced at the runts and grimaced before asking, "Is there a waiting room or someplace I could leave my brother and sister while we do this?"  
  
"Certainly, dear, just come with me." she said, smiling at the two youngsters.  
  
Gladys, the night nurse, who had just come on duty, led them to a small, vacant waiting area. Sissy sat Buffy and Jody down on the couch, relieving them of the bag packed for French.  
  
"I want you guys to read or study while I'm gone, okay? That means you two should use your indoor voices and no running around. Right?" Sissy told them.  
  
"Are we going to have to stay here all night?" asked Buffy in a distressed tone.  
  
"No, I don't think so. Just for a little while, I hope." answered Sissy, hugging them both before following Gladys out.  
  
"They seem like nice kids." chuckled Gladys, guiding Sissy down the corridor toward a man in a white coat who was reading a clipboard.  
  
"Yeah, they are." agreed Sissy.  
  
"Hank!" Gladys called as Doctor Swenson began walking down the hall in the opposite direction. "I've got someone here to see one of your patients!" she added as the doctor turned.  
  
The expression on the rather formidable looking physician's face was one of mild vexation as his eyes came to rest on Sissy.  
  
"Gladys, there is an unattended minor in my ward." he said sternly.  
  
"Aw, Hank, she isn't unattended. She's with me." said the nurse, obviously well aquatinted with the doctor's brusque manner.  
  
"Which patient is she here to see then?"  
  
"The car accident ..." said Gladys.  
  
Doctor Swenson seemed to study Sissy for a moment before commenting, "Oh, that one."  
  
"Is he all right?" asked Sissy, plucking up her courage.  
  
"Gladys, shouldn't you be minding the desk?" he asked the nurse, making the subtle suggestion that she should return to her station.  
  
"I suppose so." Gladys agreed.  
  
Doctor Swenson leaned against the wall and flipped through the notes on his clipboard.  
  
"Are you going to tell me how Mister French is doing or not?" asked Sissy after a few minutes of silence.  
  
"How old are you?" the doctor asked. "I only want to know so I can gauge how much medical terminology to throw at you at once."  
  
"Fourteen." answered Sissy.  
  
Swenson raised an eyebrow and said, "You must be mature for your age then. None of the fourteen-year-olds I know would have come here without an adult."  
  
"Thanks. I think. Not that we had much choice."  
  
"We?"  
  
"My younger siblings are in the waiting room."  
  
The doctor rubbed his eyes and said, "Great. Now I guess I can answer your question." Sissy looked at him expectantly. "He is going to be all right, in time. Mister French has two broken bones in his left leg, which has been encased in a plaster cast. His left wrist has given indications of a severe sprain. He has had ... a number of stitches due to a series of cuts caused when his face made contact with the windshield of the vehicle that struck him. Another result of this contact is a mild concussion in the area of ... well, you don't need to know that ... and a somewhat more serious contrecoup injury that is the result of hitting the pavement." Swenson explained to her. "Do you understand all that?" he asked.  
  
"Most of it. But you didn't really say how he's doing." said Sissy.  
  
"He is currently unconscious."  
  
"Does that mean I can't see him?"  
  
"No, it just means that he can't see you." said Doctor Swenson, motioning for her to follow him down the hall.  
  
  
The hospital room was almost dark inside, lit only by a pale fluorescent light over the bed inside and the softer glow of the city lights through the blinds. Doctor Swenson lingered at the door, watching Sissy with some vague interest as he pretended to study his clipboard. She was awfully brave, awfully together for someone so young.   
  
Sissy set her bags down near the door and cautiously approached the bed with a combination of curiosity and trepidation.  
  
The figure on the bed had a bandage over much of the left side of his face, hiding any sign of stitches or even bruising. It was only when Sissy was close enough to note the slight pallor of French's skin and the intravenous needles in his arm that she began to feel light-headed. She grasped the half-rail at the edge of the bed until the dizziness passed. It was the hideous gray hospital gown that made him look so much paler, she decided, and the needles were there for a good reason. Sissy felt giddy again and grasped the railing even more tightly. There was no denying it. Mister French looked as though he had been hit by a bus.  
  
"How long is he going to be like this?" asked Sissy, glancing over her shoulder at the shadowy figure in the doorway.  
  
"He isn't in a coma, if that's what you're asking. He will probably regain consciousness within the next six to twelve hours." answered Swenson.  
  
"We need to stay here tonight, my brother and sister and me. Is that all right?"  
  
"You need to stay because you don't have anywhere else to go or because you want to stay with him?"  
  
"Is there a right answer to that question?" asked Sissy, releasing her death-grip on the railing and turning around to face Doctor Swenson.  
  
"No, I was just curious. Gladys would never let me forget it if I turned three kids out like that. She's been here since the fifties. She remembers how things were back then. Families, hospital stays, cots on the floor. That sort of thing. But I want it to be understood that neither Gladys nor I will stand for you or your siblings disturbing the other patients or running amok in this ward."  
  
"Right. Sounds good." Sissy nodded, surprised that the doctor was willing to allow them to stay. She had expected him possibly to call child and family services or at best let them come back in the morning.  
  
"Then go and collect your siblings while I have a word with Gladys about the sleeping arrangements." said Swenson with a soft smile.  
  
  
The twins were dutifully reading their school books when Sissy returned to the waiting room. They looked up from the book they were sharing as Sissy sat down in a chair across from them.  
  
"We're going to stay here and I need you guys to be extra good tonight, all right?" she told them.  
  
"Does that mean Mister French is staying here too?" asked Jody.  
  
"That's right." nodded Sissy, not quite sure what to tell them or how. "If you two pack up your book bags, we can go see him now." she said.  
  
Sissy was never quite sure if the twins liked Mister French, at least not until they began throwing things into their backpacks at record speeds, obviously eager to see him. She only smiled and hoped that they wouldn't freak out when they saw him. Buffy and Jody were just six after all and didn't have her experience with hospitals, limited though it was.  
  
But her fears proved to be mostly unfounded as the runts dashed to the side of the hospital bed and, using their indoor voices, of course, began daring each other to poke him. While not an activity to be encouraged, especially with a nurse near at hand setting up an old rickety cot, it was a far cry from Sissy's own experience of dizziness or the freak-out that she feared from them.  
  
"Stop that!" she whispered.  
  
"Oh, don't bother trying to stop them, dear. It would be a great help if the tikes woke him up." chuckled Gladys as she made up a cot for the two runts to share.  
  
"What happened to him?" asked Jody, looking at the huge cast on French's leg.  
  
"He was hit by a car ... on his way home this afternoon ..." answered Sissy.  
  
"Is he gonna let us sign his cast?" he asked.  
  
"Um ... we'll have to ask him in the morning." replied his older sister.  
  
"Mrs. Beasly says that Mister French looks sick." said Buffy.  
  
"Now, now, children," clucked Gladys, "I don't think he'd would like you saying that at all. It's probably just the lighting."  
  
Buffy looked skeptical.  
  
"Yeah," agreed Sissy, understanding what the older lady was trying to do, "and I bet he'll look just fine in the morning when all the lights are on and its all sunny outside."  
  
"I expect it's time for all of you to get some rest." said the night nurse, pointing Sissy in the direction of a chair in the corner with a pile of blankets on it.  
  
Gladys turned the fluorescent light down after they settled in and closed the door, softly chuckling at the three youngsters and their exceptionally lucky older 'friend'.  
  
"Sissy?" questioned Buffy in the dark.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Do we have to go to school tomorrow?"  
  
"You're not getting out of school this easily." she laughed, trying to get comfortable in her chair.  
  
  
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A/N: Please review! I just want to know if I should keep posting this or not. Please?  
  
  



	3. Something Short of Paradise

Chapter Three  
  
Something Short of Paradise  
  
  
  
Meanwhile, in the skies over Oklahoma, Uncle Bill awoke to the sound of an announcement from the cockpit. He rubbed his eyes and looked around the darkened plane interior.  
  
"We will be touching down in Dallas in less than an hour. Again, we are sorry about this inconvenience." said the pilot.  
  
Bill grabbed a flight attendant as she shuffled past with the beverage cart.  
  
"What's going on? This is supposed to be a non-stop flight to New York." he told her.  
  
"There's a hurricane coming up from the Gulf, a freak snowstorm over Cleveland and Detroit, and Chicago can't handle the additional traffic. This flight has been rerouted through Dallas, where we will wait out the storm. They are estimating a six to eight hour delay." she informed him, gathering from his confusion that he had slept through the earlier announcements.  
  
"You've got to be kidding me!"  
  
"I'm sorry, sir, but at least we weren't ordered back to Denver."  
  
"Right." he said, rubbing his eyes as she walked away, dragging the cart with her. He knew that he wouldn't make it back before morning, no matter how much he wanted to be there for the kids and French.  
  
  
When Sissy opened her eyes, she wasn't quite sure what had awakened her. She had been sleeping relatively soundly, only twice roused from her slumber by the nurse going in and out. It was still dark outside. The runts were still asleep. She moved her blankets aside and peered over at French. For a moment she thought that he was still unconscious. Then his eyelids fluttered. He moved his left hand slightly as though reaching for his face, but stopped. It was obviously too painful and too great of an effort.  
  
Sissy slipped out of her chair, suppressing a shiver as her bare feet touched the freezing cold hospital floor as she tiptoed to the side of the bed.  
  
"Mister French?" she whispered, not wanting to wake the twins. He groaned quietly and reached toward her with his uninjured hand. Sissy took the hint and carefully grasped his hand. "French?" she questioned again, squeezing.  
  
"Where am I?" he asked, slowly lifting his heavy eyelids.  
  
"Um, the hospital." answered Sissy. French closed his eyes again. "French?" she asked, patting his hand.  
  
"And ... how did I get here?"  
  
"You were in a car accident."  
  
"But I don't drive." he said with some confusion, opening his eyes again.  
  
"Yeah ... but I don't think the guy that hit you knew that." said Sissy.  
  
French frowned, which was followed by a slight wince, no doubted caused by the stitches, before asking her, "If you're here, then where are your brother and sister? Surely you didn't leave them at the apartment alone."  
  
"Sleeping. They're sleeping." she said, nodding toward the cot.  
  
"You brought them here, to the hospital?"  
  
"Like you said, Mister French, I couldn't leave them home alone, now could I?" she asked.  
  
Sissy could tell by the expression on his face that French had finally realized that they had all come to stay with him, that they had left their comfortable beds in their uncle's apartment just to be there with him.  
  
"I ... I am touched." he said quietly, giving her hand a squeeze. "But I do wonder what your uncle will say when he learns of this." added French, becoming his normal, prickly British self again and removing his hand from hers. "I do not think he will be pleased."  
  
"Oh, no, Uncle Bill would much rather we stayed home and just left you here. That would definitely have made him happy." objected Sissy.  
  
"Hush, you'll wake them." warned French.  
  
"And we wouldn't want that."  
  
"No, not by any means."  
  
"Do you want me to get a nurse or anything for you?" she asked.  
  
"I don't think so." he answered after a pause. "Actually, closing my eyes for a bit seems rather appealing." said French softly.  
  
"Same here." agreed Sissy. "But if a nurse named Gladys wakes you up, please be nice to her. She's been really super." she told him as he closed his eyes  
  
"Of course ... Gladys ... the super nurse." he mumbled.  
  
  
When Bill Davis stepped off the plane during the wee hours of the morning, the first thing he did was whip out his cell phone and call New York again. The very tone of the ring sounded desperate to him, but still no one answered. He sat down in a chair and glanced at a board showing the delays, which were numerous, and grudgingly hung up.  
  
"This cannot be good." he muttered to himself, rubbing his face and closing his eyes. If he had called in his own plane, he could hardly arrive in New York later, given the estimations on the board.  
  
"Your flight grounded too?" asked a curious voice nearby.  
  
"Yeah, and at the worst possible time." answered Bill, turning toward the stranger with a carry-on who had taken one of the few available seats. The airport was very crowded, especially considering the time.  
  
"Important business?"  
  
"Nah, business meetings I can miss if I have to. It's family trouble." Bill replied.  
  
The guy nodded and with some sympathy said, "I know what you mean, pal." "Is it an emergency?" he questioned.  
  
"I don't know. I mean, I think it is, but I'm not sure exactly what happened. I can't get in touch with anyone." answered Uncle Bill, tapping his phone.  
  
"I bet you have kids."  
  
"In a manner of speaking. I'm taking care of my brother's three kids." admitted Bill, suddenly wishing he had pictures of them in his wallet. "But it's not them I'm worried about, not really. The oldest, Sissy, she left a message last night. I left them with my ... with someone and he was in an accident. I don't know how serious." Bill explained. He chuckled ironically as he realized how good it felt to tell someone, even a stranger what was going on.  
  
"Sheesh. I wouldn't want to be in your shoes ..." said the guy, shaking his head.  
  
"The name's Bill." he said, holding out his hand.  
  
"Joe. Pleased to meet you." he answered as they shook hands. "So just how old are these kids?" Joe questioned.  
  
"Fourteen, six, and six. Way too young to be on their own in the big city." said Bill, sighing and leaning forward in his seat.  
  
"No kidding." agreed Joe, glancing at the airport score board. "You might get home to them by this evening."  
  
"I was hoping for morning."  
  
"It isn't likely, not if you're heading for New York."  
  
"Or Chicago, Detroit, or ... or anywhere up north."  
  
Joe nodded toward the board and told him, "But you could maybe get a flight to Atlanta in three hours ... and possibly a connecting flight from there. The storm is moving up the Mississippi pretty fast, it seems."  
  
Bill looked at the list of delays and smiled. It was a chance. It was much better than waiting almost five to ten more hours in Dallas for a direct flight.  
  
"I just hope they have some seats left." said Bill as he clambered quickly to his feet.  
  
"Good luck then, Bill."  
  
"Thanks, Joe, and I hope you get where you're going too." he said, dashing for the ticket counter with a new game plan: if not north, then south.  
  
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Please, review! I would really enjoy some feedback.  



	4. Simplicity

Chapter Four  
  
Simplicity  
  
  
  
Sissy slept fitfully until daylight began to pierce the blinds, alerting her to the fact that she had to get the runts to school. It was the responsible thing to do, even though she fully intended to skip herself. The pair, after sleeping on a cot all night, were grumpy and subdued as she sent Jody and then Buffy into the bathroom to freshen up and change clothes. Sissy simply combed her fingers through her hair and reapplied her make-up, anything more would have to wait. French was still fast asleep, and he looked rather peaceful in the misty morning light. She was glad of that. The last thing she wanted was to explain that she planned to return just as soon as the runts were at school. It was always easier to ask for forgiveness than for permission, after all.  
  
"What about Mister French?" asked Jody quietly as she ushered them toward the door.  
  
"If you guys are good at school today and wait with your teacher when school's over, then maybe, just maybe we can all go home tonight." said Sissy, hoping that she wasn't promising them too much, that they wouldn't be disappointed. Her answer seemed to pacify both of them.  
  
As she closed the door to the hospital room behind them, Gladys at the her desk down the hall, waved them over.  
  
"I was just about to come and wake you." she told them with a soft smile.  
  
"Thanks, but I think we've managed." said Sissy. "I'm ... I'm coming back as soon as these two are in school. If French wakes up while I'm out, would you mind telling him that ... I'll be right back?" she questioned.  
  
"I'm on my way out, dear, but I'll let Dolores know the instant I see her." Gladys told her.  
  
"Thanks for everything." said Sissy, meaning every word as she guided the sleepy twins toward the elevator.  
  
"Oh, don't mention it, dear!" the nurse called after them.  
  
  
After a quiet cab ride to the neighborhood school and a hasty drop off, Sissy glanced at the time and decided to risk a quick pit-stop at the apartment to check the answering machine. She had half expected Uncle Bill to show up at the hospital at the crack of dawn. She had been at least mildly disappointed. But when she saw the light on the answering machine flashing, that was forgotten as she pressed the button and collapsed in a nearby chair.  
  
The first message was a little disheartening. Uncle Bill sounded a lot more worried than she felt that morning. She was still anxious, of course, but everything wrong seemed rightable. The second message was a little better.  
  
"I hope all of you are all right. I know that you're probably taking care of everything, Sissy. Just hang in there. I'm in Dallas right now, but, if the weather clears ... I'll be home soon, just as soon as I can be, I promise." said the voice of her uncle on the machine. Sissy could hear airport sounds in the background.  
  
"How soon is soon?" she questioned out loud as she dialed the number to return his call.  
  
Sissy was just a little disappointed when the call rolled over to voice mail again. Then she realized that he was probably in the air and that that was a good thing.  
  
"It's Sissy again. Sorry if my message rattled you. I think Mister French is going to be okay. We stayed with him at the hospital all night last night. And I'm handling things here ... as best as I can. Buffy and Jody are at school ... and I'll be at the hospital probably when you come in ... which I really hope will be soon." she said, hanging up when she had said her piece. She hoped he wouldn't be too worried.  
  
  
French was still sleeping quite soundly when Sissy, after having a brief conversation with Dolores the day nurse, returned to the hospital room. She smiled a little smugly as she noticed that her absence had been unobserved. Finally taking the opportunity to make herself presentable, she slipped into the bathroom with her overnight bag and changed into fresh clothes. She couldn't believe how terrible she looked after just one night of sleeping in a chair. She had never looked this bad after sleeping on a bus, which she had done on numerous occasions. She did feel better, less tired and more alert, even if she didn't look it.  
  
Sissy, returning from the small bathroom, felt a vague pang of guilt for skipping school and quietly removed her English book from her book bag and settled into her chair to read. She had plowed through a couple of pages of Wordsworth's rather mundane poetry when the door opened.  
  
"Good morning." said Doctor Swenson politely. Sissy could hear sounds of the quiet ward beginning to stir outside: heavy footsteps, gurney wheels squeaking, and muted voices that had not been so noticeably earlier.  
  
"Good morning." Sissy replied, closing her book and watching the doctor at work.  
  
Swenson glanced at the cot, which had been folded up and placed in a corner out of the way.  
  
"Packed the smaller ones off to school then?" he questioned idly, reading through information on his clipboard, notes left for him by the night nurse.  
  
"Yeah, they'll get into less trouble there."  
  
"Quite right." he agreed as he scribbled down a note.  
  
"How is he?" asked Sissy, uncurling herself from the chair and walking to the end of the bed.  
  
"Better than last night." Swenson replied, examining his charts.  
  
"When can he go home then?"  
  
"The concussion ... it is rather serious. I am ordering a couple of additional tests. I can't promise anything." answered the doctor. Sissy looked at him expectantly. "If all the tests are good, tomorrow morning."  
  
Sissy smiled and relaxed a little, telling him, "Great. Our uncle should be back long before then."  
  
Swenson glanced at her and then glanced at French before asking, "Your uncle?"  
  
"Ahhh ... well, my uncle, my brother and sister's uncle. Um, our family life is a little complicated."  
  
"I'll bet." said Swenson with a dry laugh. Looking back at the clipboard for a moment, he asked, "Has the patient been conscious for any period of time? Gladys left that one blank."  
  
"Maybe five minutes or so." shrugged Sissy.  
  
"When?"  
  
"Super early this morning, when it was still dark."  
  
"Was he coherent? Did he sound like himself?"  
  
"Mostly ..."  
  
Doctor Swenson laid the clipboard on the stand by the bed and removed a small penlight from one of his pockets. Shining the light in one eye and then the other, Swenson nodded thoughtfully before tucking the penlight away again.  
  
"Looks good." he said for Sissy's benefit. "Although the response could have been better."  
  
"Better how?"  
  
"Well, his pupils constrict evenly, but it would have been much better if he had grabbed my arm and tried to kill me." shrugged Swenson. "I get a lot of that."  
  
"If you say so." said Sissy, finding his attempt at humor rather weird.  
  
"Are you going to be around today?"  
  
"Until about three o'clock. I have to go pick up Buffy and Jody and swing by the apartment then." she said.  
  
"You are far too dedicated for someone your age." chuckled the doctor as he gathered his things.  
  
"Thanks, I think, but normally I'm trouble ... so I guess I try too hard to make up for it sometimes." said Sissy with a grin.  
  
"Well, whatever the case may be, in my book he's lucky to have you around, and so are your brother and sister." said Swenson as he walked out.  
  
  
Something in his mind told him to open his eyes, that he could open them now. He didn't want to, but there was that nagging feeling that it was time to get up. He couldn't hear an alarm. It was too quiet. Somewhere faraway he could hear a door closing. Then he felt something warm touch his hand and a sense of pressure, of squeezing. For an instant he felt suddenly anchored, suddenly more aware of things. Someone was waiting for him. No, that wasn't quite right. Someone was waiting with him.  
  
French wrenched his eyes open to discover who it might be that was with him in the fogginess. The world was blurry for a moment. The light in the place of his waking was too bright. And he remembered where he was and wanted nothing more to close his eyes and fade into unconsciousness once more.  
  
"You awake?" asked the concerned voice of his employer's young ward, removing her hand from his.  
  
"Unfortunately." replied French grumpily, turning to look at her.  
  
"You just missed the doctor." Sissy informed him almost reprovingly.  
  
"Did he say anything of note?"  
  
"You might be able to go home tomorrow."  
  
"Good news, I suppose." said French, raising his head and looking at the cast that enveloped a large portion of his left leg. "Although ..." he began to say.  
  
"Don't even start." Sissy interrupted. "Everything is going to be fine." she pressed.  
  
"I would dream of starting." he answered with an amused look.  
  
"Do you want to sit up?" she questioned.  
  
"Please." he responded as she fumbled for the button that raised the head of the bed.  
  
"Say when." she said jokingly.  
  
"Just enough so that I can get out of bed, please." he requested.  
  
"Come on, Mister French! Have you totally not noticed the cast or something?" she asked, releasing the button when they were eye to eye.  
  
"It doesn't hurt ... much." he said, raising an eyebrow.  
  
"Wow. They must have him pumped full of drugs." she thought. "Suit yourself." said Sissy, lowering the safety rail.  
  
French started to ease toward the edge of the bed and stopped. He looked uncomfortable for a moment.  
  
"Perhaps you could step out of the room for a moment? I do not believe this ... garment makes one very presentable." said French, plucking at the sleeve of his hospital gown.  
  
Sissy bit her lip and tried not to laugh as she walked to the foot of the bed, under which she had stashed the bag she had packed for just such an emergency. With much pulling and tugging, she removed the robe, his robe, from the over-packed piece of luggage, shaking out the wrinkles as she stood up.  
  
"Look what I brought." she said, holding it up.  
  
His jaw dropped a little as she held up the burgundy and navy blue striped garment. Sissy never failed to surprise him. And this time it was such a nice surprise for a change.  
  
"I cannot thank you enough." he managed after a moment.  
  
"You could stay in bed." suggested Sissy. "Uncle Bill would so freak if I let you break your other leg." she added.  
  
"A compromise then?"  
  
"I'm listening."  
  
"The chair by the window?" he asked, nodding toward it.  
  
"Great." said Sissy, unable to hide her misgivings.  
  
French suppressed the urge to yell as he swung his legs over the side of the bed. He was suddenly aware of how very broken his leg was. Sissy held the robe up for him and looked away for the sake of the Englishman's modesty. His balance was precarious. French slipped his uninjured arm in first, steadying himself with the sprained appendage as he did so. He was very careful with the other, heavily bandaged hand and arm, allowing Sissy to steady him as he managed to get the arm into the sleeve without disturbing the IV needles.   
  
Sissy turned down the collar of the robe and unobtrusively tied it for him before helping him to the chair a few steps away. He had gone pale again from the effort, but he still looked much more normal wearing some of his own clothes and sitting in a comfortable chair.  
  
"You have my undying gratitude." he said as soon as he caught his breath.  
  
"Yeah, well, that's nice to know, especially since your doctor is probably going have my head for this." replied Sissy.  
  
"I shan't let him. I shall ... I shall hit him with my cast." said French, wincing as his smile caused the stitches to pull slightly. He touched the bandage.  
  
"It doesn't look _that _bad." said Sissy quickly.  
  
"Thank you." he said, glancing at the cot against the wall. "And where are the holy terrors this morning?" asked French.  
  
"School, of course."  
  
"Ah ... and you elected to remain behind?"  
  
"No, I took them to school myself and dropped by the apartment. You think I just shoved them in a cab?" she asked, crossing her arms and looking rather smug.  
  
"My apologies."  
  
"Uncle Bill left us a couple of messages. He's coming home soon." she explained.  
  
"Today?"  
  
"With any luck. I ... I don't like being in charge." Sissy admitted, glancing out the window.  
  
"That is surprising."  
  
"Oh, don't get me wrong. I do like being in charge of my own life, just not everyone else's. It feels like I'm slowly being crushed."  
  
"Now you know how your uncle feels."  
  
"Yeah, I guess I never realized how hard he has it. Well, both of you." chuckled Sissy.  
  
"All part of the job." answered French, reaching for the literature book that Sissy had left next to her chair. "Though the job has been a bit more challenging of late." he sniffed as he flipped through the pages of the text book. He paused where she had dog-eared a page.  
  
"We're reading English poetry. Wordsworth mostly." she told him.  
  
French glanced at a page, closed the book, and took a deep breath before quoting, "_She shall be sportive as the fawn, That wild with glee across the lawn, Or up the mountain springs; And hers shall be the breathing balm, And hers the silence and the calm, Of mute insensate things._"  
  
"Wow, not bad for a guy with a pretty serious concussion." she said, resisting the urge to giggle. "Do you have a photographic memory or something?"  
  
"I am well steeped in the classics." he replied.  
  
"So you like this stuff?" she asked, wrinkling her nose slightly.  
  
"And may I assume by your tone and expression that you do not?"  
  
"Well, it isn't exactly my cup of tea, ... but what you just read was ... really cool."  
  
"Poetry was meant to be spoken aloud. This isn't a chemistry book, but I expect you know that." said French, hefting the textbook with one hand before opening it again. "Perhaps I could help you with whatever reading you have been assigned?" he questioned.  
  
Sissy smiled, feeling for the first time as though that everything was going to be all right, and nodded, "Sure, I would like that, Mister French."  
  
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A/N: The poetry is from William Wordsworth's "Three years she grew". I'm not a big fan of Wordsworth, but all my high school and college English teachers were. Anyway, long chapter. I hope someone enjoys it. I had fun writing it. Review?  
  
  



	5. Out of Pawn

Chapter Five  
  
Out of Pawn  
  
  
  
It was a rough flight, no doubt about it. It had been years since Uncle Bill had been on a flight with so much turbulence. The plane circled the airport for a long time before it was cleared to land. The landing itself was hair raising. Bill felt as though he was getting off a roller coaster when he finally disembarked. He was itching to check for a message from home, which seemed no closer as he squeezed through the crowded and dreary airport.  
  
He ducked into a small airport bookstore and began listening to his messages: three from Denver in regards to his sudden departure, one from a woman whom he had stood up, and one from Sissy. He sighed with relief and held the phone to his chest after listening to her reassuring and mostly upbeat message. The emergency back home could be downgraded to just a situation.  
  
Stashing his cell phone away, Bill made his way through the crowded baggage collection area and toward the ticketing counters. The line was long, but as he watched the nearby boards, he noticed the flight delays gradually beginning to decrease. It was a good sign.  
  
"I'd like one-way ticket to New York. Next available flight, please." he said to the ticketing agent.  
  
"I have a seat available on a plane leaving just after two o'clock. Would that be all right?" she asked.  
  
"Sure. That would be just fine." he agreed. Sure, it was a longer wait than he really wanted, but everything really was beginning to look up.  
  
"If you want to check your luggage, the line begins over there." she said, pointing him toward an enormous line farther down the terminal.  
  
"Oh, no. I'm good." he said, taking his ticket from her as she finished processing it.  
  
"Enjoy your flight."  
  
Bill tucked his ticket in his pocket and found his way to a restaurant. There had been neither breakfast nor brunch on the plane and no time for anything at the last airport. He finally felt as though he had room to breathe.  
  
  
"_O'er rough and smooth she trips along, And never looks behind; And sings a solitary song, That whistles in the wind_." French read, his heavy eyelids beginning to droop.  
  
Sissy, seated on the unfolded cot nearby, smiled behind her hand. He had been right: poetry was the art of the spoken word, not merely words on paper. He started to turn the page, but she stopped him.  
  
"I think we had better ask about some lunch for you before you nod off." she said, standing and stretching. How long had she been listening to him? She wasn't sure.  
  
"I really don't feel up to eating anything." he said, closing the book and trying to look less sleepy.  
  
"You should have said you didn't feel well. You could have stopped reading a long time ago." said Sissy reproachfully.  
  
"It felt better than being idle."  
  
"If you say so, but now you really should have something to eat to get your strength back."  
  
"If you insist then ..." he acquiesced.  
  
"I'll be right back." she said, darting toward the door before he could change his mind.  
  
  
A good amount of effort was required to get French, who was grousing the entire time, back into bed. The nurse was, on one hand, quite displeased by the fact that her patient had shown so little caution, but was rather pleasantly surprised by his independence and mettle, especially when he insisted that he could make it to the WC without her assistance. Sissy never heard the end of that particular row as Dolores, the nurse, ordered her out of the room, and Sissy used the opportunity to find a snack machine since she presumed that lunch, for French or for herself, would not be forthcoming any time soon.  
  
On her way back to the room, Sissy spotted a pay phone wedged between two soda machines and decided to call the apartment and retrieve any phone messages that might have been left in her absence. She was gratified to find that Uncle Bill had called yet again and left a brief message:  
  
"I just wanted you to know that I got your message and that I'm in Atlanta. I won't be home until this evening sometime. I'm proud of the way you seem to be handling everything, Sissy. Give my regards to French and the twins."  
  
Sissy couldn't help but to grin. Her uncle was proud of her. Of course, he was almost always proud of her, not that she knew that. He didn't say it all that often.  
  
Returning to the hospital room, she found French propped up in bed with a mildly surly expression on his face. He was flipping through her text book again, obviously no longer very sleepy or overtaxed, possibly due to the invigorating argument he had had with the nurse.  
  
"You look like the proverbial cat who ate the canary." he said, looking up from the book as he closed and returned it to her.  
  
"Uncle Bill will be home tonight. I'm just ... relieved." she shrugged.  
  
"I seem to remember reading something about a hurricane in yesterday's paper. Or was it the day before? I hope it isn't causing him any difficulties."  
  
"Well, I don't think anyone normally goes from Denver to New York via Dallas and Atlanta." Sissy told him.  
  
"No, one does not." he agreed, frowning as he recalled that his employer's plane was unfortunately undergoing maintenance in LA.  
  
  
With a copy of the _Wall Street Journal_ tucked neatly under one arm, Bill Davis waited patiently in line at the metal detectors just after noon. He smiled as he realized he would be home before dinner and that the kids wouldn't be spending another night without someone looking after them, not that he didn't trust Sissy. He dropped his newspaper in a bin as he stepped through the metal detector, which, much to his surprise and dismay, went off.  
  
"Please step this way." said an airport security official.  
  
"Right." he said, following the man to a table and two yellow footprints on the floor.  
  
"Stand right there." the security officer instructed him.  
  
Bill stood there for a while even after they failed to find anything, including his cell phone and his wallet, that would set off a more accurate detection device. Two security workers had taken his ticket and boarding card and were discussing them quietly a few feet away. The obvious problem was that Bill was traveling alone with no luggage and a one-way ticket.  
  
"Should've bought a suitcase." Bill noted mentally as one of the officers returned his attention to him.  
  
"We apologize for the delay. Please proceed to your boarding area." he told Bill rather mechanically as he returned his travel documents.  
  
"Not a problem." he replied, glancing at his watch. He still had just enough time to make it to his flight. The last thing he needed was another delay.  
  
Unfortunately, when he reached his gate, that was exactly what he found: another four hour delay, caused by the earlier flight delays and the incredible number of planes circling the airport, keeping him from his goal. He sighed softly as he collapsed in a chair to wait.  
  
  
Doctor Swenson had come in sometime during the afternoon and decided to wheel French to neurology for those tests that he had mentioned earlier that morning. Sissy continued to work on her homework for a while before leaving a note for French. It was time to pick up the runts and make plans for the evening.  
  
She was grateful to be leaving the hospital for a few hours. It was a little too depressing, too quiet, even for doing homework and reading. She tossed her bag into the back of a taxi and got inside, giving the driver the address of the community school. It had been a long day, she decided, as she yawned and watched the city pass by through the window of the cab.  
  
Buffy and Jody were waiting with their teacher, who seemed a little concerned, just as Sissy had asked them to do. The twins looked a little under the weather, or maybe she was expecting too much from the six-year-olds.  
  
"Thanks for waiting with them." she told their teacher.  
  
"Oh, it was no trouble." said the older woman, smiling softly. "Is everything all right at home?" she questioned.  
  
Sissy tried to smile as though she had no idea what the teacher meant and give the runts a no nonsense look at the same time.  
  
"Home? Yeah, it's great. Everything is just fine." she said. "And speaking of home, I think we should go home. Right, you guys?" she asked them, grabbing their hands.  
  
The twins' teacher watched them take off down the street with an incredulous look on her face, but just shook her head. Maybe the twins had exaggerated. Or maybe the oldest sibling was hiding something. In either case, they all seemed relatively fine. But she would definitely call their uncle if Jody and Buffy told her another story about spending the night at the hospital.  
  
  
It was an hour long struggle to get the runts cleaned up and ready for another night at the hospital. Sissy would almost have rather stayed at the apartment, but then, French would be expecting them and Uncle Bill would be too, hopefully, by that evening. After that everything could be closer to normal again. For once Sissy welcomed the routine, especially as she unpacked and re-packed her bag again, sighing as she realized how much homework she had completed just to pass the time. Another night or two and she would be practically studious. It was lucky that the next day of the week was Saturday and no one had to go to school. They would all be able to chill out and recuperate.  
  
Buffy and Jody seemed anything but happy to be returning to the hospital. The first night had been a little scary, even if it was something of an adventure with their older sister too. Sissy checked their bags again, smiling approvingly when she found that they had everything that they would need, including some coloring books to pass the time. The last thing she wanted was to have to provide a whole evening of entertainment for them.  
  
Before they left, Sissy checked for messages again and left a note by the phone with French's room number on it so that their uncle could find them if he checked the apartment first. The twins already looked restless as they waited by the door with their book bags. Sissy grabbed her own backpack and smiled as she ushered them outside.  
  
  
The sun was already beginning to sink behind the buildings as Sissy paid their cab driver, ruing that she just wasn't familiar enough with the bus system yet to get them from home to the hospital and vice versa. The twins were quiet as they walked through the building, which bustled with activity, and made their way to the elevator. Dolores gave them a cheerful wave as they walked through the ward. Sissy opened the door quietly, thinking that French was possibly napping, as she dragged Buffy and Jody along with her. The butler was reading a newspaper when they walked in.  
  
"Children." he greeted them, folding up the paper and laying it aside.  
  
Buffy and Jody grinned and dropped their backpacks as they saw that he appeared to be fine.  
  
"Mister French, can we sign your cast?" Jody blurted out, dashing toward the hospital bed.  
  
"I should say not!" replied French indignantly, adjusting the sling that had been found for his wrist since the IV's had been removed.  
  
"Come on, guys. Don't bother Mister French. I told you he was hit by a car, right?" Sissy asked them, handing them their school bags and shooing them toward the cot in the corner.  
  
"They can bother me all they like. They just can't sign my cast." said French a bit more agreeably.  
  
"How about reading for a while or something?" she asked them, wondering if she had misheard. Was French actually encouraging them?  
  
"Okay." they agreed reluctantly.  
  
"Any word from the home front?" asked French quietly.  
  
"Not since lunch time." she shrugged.  
  
"I see." he nodded, reaching for his newspaper again.  
  
"Your turn." said Sissy, crossing her arms.  
  
"Very well. They say that I must have a very thick skull, if you must know. I can go home in the morning, pending the outcome of a couple of laboratory tests." he answered. Sissy sighed with relief and grinned. "My word, Sissy! Don't tell me you were that worried." he chuckled.  
  
"Sissy's been worried all night and all day." sighed Jody from the corner, not even looking up from the coloring book the pair were sharing.  
  
"Stop eavesdropping, you two!" scolded Sissy.  
  
"Still feeling as though you are being crushed then?" asked French.  
  
"Nothing that I can't handle, but, yeah, I guess you've got me." she admitted, lowering her voice slightly.  
  
"Well, just don't let your uncle come through that door and see you with that long face. He would be heart broken, I'm sure." said French with a bemused smile.  
  
"Thanks." she chuckled.  
  
"Not at all." he said.  
  
  
Some hours later after French had nodded off while reading his newspaper, Sissy took the twins to a nearby Chinese restaurant for dinner. The pair had been very good, suspiciously well-behaved, though she had kept an unusually careful watch on them during the afternoon. As they ate Sissy glanced at her watch a few times, wondering if Uncle Bill was still in the air or if his plane was landing yet. Sissy, knowing that she could only control so much of what was going on, tried to push her worries aside and concentrate on the meal, which the runts were doing with gusto.  
  
It was after dark and the lights had been dimmed on the hospital ward when they returned. Gladys was pleased to see them when they stepped off the elevator.  
  
"I hear that all of you are going home in the morning. Doctor Swenson signed your friend's discharge papers before he left this evening." she informed them with a smile.  
  
"That's great! Mister French will be so glad to hear that!" said Sissy.  
  
"But you must be sure that he takes all his medication, dear, and rests properly once he's been released. The three of you are very sweet and all, but I don't want to see you back here for a good long time." she said, shaking a finger at Sissy.  
  
"Oh, I will. Trust me." said Sissy. "And thank you for everything." she added.  
  
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A/N: The poetry in this chapter is from Wordsworth's "Lucy Gray". The airport scenes are not social commentary. Thanks for reading. Please review!  
  
  



	6. I'm Going Home

Chapter Six  
  
I'm Going Home  
  
  
  
Bill awoke with a jolt as he felt the plane began to descend. He rubbed his eyes and glanced out the window. It was too dark to see anything but his own tired reflection staring back at him.  
  
"New York?" he asked the guy across the aisle.  
  
"Where else?" replied the man, giving him an odd look.  
  
"Philadelphia, Albany, Boston ..." he thought to himself, ticking off possible destinations other than home. It had taken him so long to get there that he just couldn't take it for granted.  
  
The descent seemed unusually and painfully slow as Uncle Bill glanced from his watch to the window. It seemed as though time were grinding to a halt until the plane touched down and the mad dash from the plane to the arrival gates began. Bill hustled through the crowded airport and caught the first available cab outside.  
  
He gave the driver the address of his apartment and removed his cell phone from his pocket. The battery had died during the last leg of his trip. He was almost positive that French and kids were still at the hospital, but he had to check. If they had come home already, then he would be searching every hospital in the city in vain to find them.  
  
Bill paid the cabby, gave him a really good tip, and asked him to wait. The guy was only too happy to oblige as Uncle Bill jogged into the building, nodding to the doorman as he caught the elevator door, which was just closing.  
  
The apartment was, of course, deserted. To him it seemed as though no one had been home for sometime. There were dishes in the kitchen left over from the dinner interrupted the night before, and all of the doors were open. Then he saw the note by the phone and managed a small relieved smile as he skimmed and pocketed it before dashing back down stairs.   
  
Sissy had thought of almost everything, he conceded, as he climbed back into the taxi and examined the note more closely.  
  
  
The lights were dimmed considerably in the hospital room as the kindly night nurse let him inside. Gladys had told him everything. For a moment Uncle Bill just stood there looking at the two kids asleep on the cot in the corner, Sissy sleeping curled up in a chair, and French softly snoring in the hospital bed. He was momentarily in awe of the peacefulness of the scene. Sissy moved slightly in her sleep, snuggling deeper into her blanket as she did so. Bill looked at Gladys and the nurse chuckled. They stepped back into the hallway for a moment.  
  
"I don't want to wake them, not for anything. I can see that they need their rest. Could I possibly get a chair brought in there?" asked Bill with a smile.  
  
"Take one from the waiting room, if you would like. It's a slow night, Mister Davis, and I don't think we'll need them all." she answered.  
  
Uncle Bill dragged the chair into the as quietly as possible while Gladys returned to her other patients and other duties. As he closed the door it made a soft squeak and the snoring stopped. Bill winced as he heard French stirring.  
  
"Hush, now." said Bill in a whisper as he stepped quickly to French's bedside. "Everyone's sleeping." he added.  
  
"Sir? You're back." said French, keeping his voice low and starting to sit up.  
  
Bill shook his head and laid a hand on French's shoulder, indicating that he shouldn't get up, as he told him, "Of course, I am, French. Better late than never, right?"  
  
"Indeed, sir." he agreed.  
  
"How are you feeling?" asked Bill.  
  
"As though I were run over by a very large truck, although they say that it was only a small compact and I went over it. I'm not entirely certain that I believe them." answered French.  
  
"Well, you don't look half bad." said Bill, glad to see that French's rather dry sense of humor remained intact.  
  
"Are you going to take them home, sir? I should think that's where they belong now."  
  
"Nah, I don't think Sissy would go for it, not after all the hours she's put in here. I think she'd want to see it through."  
  
"Perhaps you're right." said French, glancing over at her where she appeared to be sleeping contentedly. "She has been a great comfort, sir." he added.  
  
"Still think she's irredeemable?"  
  
"I would take back that remark, if I may."  
  
"You may." chuckled Uncle Bill.  
  
"Thank you, sir."  
  
"Don't mention it. And get some rest, would you? I intend to do the same." Bill told him with an amused look.  
  
"Of course, sir." French yawned quietly.  
  
  
Sissy smiled behind her blanket as she listened to Uncle Bill and French talking. Who could sleep through a discussion like that? French's voice alone would have been sufficient to wake her. She lay awake for sometime even after she heard the sound of her uncle removing his jacket and taking a seat in his chair. She had been sleeping uneasily, but with the knowledge that her uncle was home and that everything was going to be okay at last, she could slumber more restfully. Of course, she would have some fun with French concerning that comment about her being 'irredeemable', but that could certainly wait until morning, if not later.   
  
She smiled again as she closed her eyes, thinking to herself, "Buffy and Jody will be in for a big surprise tomorrow."  
  
  
When the early morning light at last came streaming in through the blinds on the window, Uncle Bill sat up in his not entirely comfortable chair and stretched, looking around at his still sleeping family. The nurse had mentioned something about French's release being official at eight o'clock. An hour, he guessed, looking at his watch, which was still on mountain time. He could hear the quiet sound of footsteps in the hallway as doctors and nurses walked to and fro outside. It was definitely time for all of them to get moving.  
  
Bill cautiously left his seat, rubbing his lower back as he did so. Sleeping in chairs was definitely an activity for the young, he decided. He prodded the twins' cot with his foot, jostling it just enough to wake them.  
  
"Uncle Bill!" Buffy shrieked as she sat up, grabbing Mrs. Beasly before jumping from the cot to hug him with Jody just behind.  
  
"We thought you'd never come home!" said Jody.  
  
"Now you two should know better than that!" he admonished with a grin.  
  
"Mrs. Beasly says that she thought we were going to stay here forever." Buffy pouted, squeezing her doll even closer than usual.  
  
"Well, your sister says that you should have more faith in Uncle Bill ... and in me." Sissy told them, stifling a yawn as she uncurled from her chair and blanket.  
  
"I couldn't have put it better myself." said French.  
  
"Right," said Uncle Bill, finally releasing his niece and nephew, "and now all we have to do is get you up and out of here."  
  
"If a pair of crutches could be found, I would be only too happy to comply." answered French.  
  
"Sissy, you want to handle all of that while I take Buffy and Jody to have some breakfast? They look a little underfed." said Bill.  
  
"Hey, looks can be deceiving." said Sissy, watching the twins' eyes light up at the mention of a meal. "Well, maybe I could've done better at that part." she privately acknowledged.  
  
"It's settled then." said their uncle, offering a hand to each of the runts. "We'll be back in half an hour." he added.  
  
As the door closed Sissy sighed and said, "You know, that would have made a lot more sense if _I_ had taken the runts to get breakfast and _ he_ stayed here with you."  
  
"Your uncle just wants you to know that he has confidence in you and that you have proven yourself to him." said French.  
  
"Great. Do you want the crutches now or after you get dressed?" she questioned.  
  
"While. Perhaps you could locate a pair while I am dressing." replied French, almost expertly lowering the railing of his bed. He paused thoughtfully before asking, "Am I to understand that you have brought clothing with you?"  
  
Sissy slid the bag from beneath the bed and placed it next to French with an undisguised smirk.  
  
"I packed it in a rush." she warned as he began sifting through the contents.  
  
French removed the razor she had packed for him and commented, "I am very much relieved that isn't pink." "But I do thank you." he added, examining her choice of outfits without further comment as she blushed slightly.  
  
"You're going to need some help." she remarked uncomfortably.  
  
"With the shave ... perhaps, but certainly not with anything else." he said.  
  
"Fine. Get dressed and everything while I get your crutches." agreed Sissy.  
  
As he slipped from the bed, balancing carefully on one foot, Sissy just sighed, shouldered his bag and guided him the few steps to the bathroom before setting small suitcase down on the sink inside.  
  
"You have ten minutes." she told him, closing the door.  
  
  
Dolores had a pair of crutches waiting, but Sissy took her time getting them, knowing that French would want his privacy. When she returned, the door was open and French was making a valiant attempt at shaving with one arm in a sling. Seeing her reflection behind him in the mirror, he smiled slightly and turned, leaning on the sink. Sissy propped up the crutches and held out her hand for the razor.  
  
"I have no doubt that you will cut me to bits." he said, half jokingly.  
  
"Just sit down and try not to move." answered Sissy, gesturing toward the rim of the tub.  
  
She had helped a guy friend in Ohio shave his head once, but that was for fun and this was different. Though French often tried her patience and she knew that he did not approve of how she chose to live her life, there was a particular sort of closeness, familiarity between them. Sissy smiled slightly as she thought of the Mister French that she remembered from childhood and had once thrown-up on back then. Throw-up, like blood, was also thicker than water, it seemed.  
  
"Wow, what a gross analogy!" she thought to herself as she rinsed the razor.  
  
French closed his eyes after a moment, trusting her almost despite himself as she cradled the back of his head in one hand and held the razor in the other. He was quite surprised in the end, when she wiped the excess soap from his face with a towel, that she had managed not to nick him.  
  
"Masterful work." he commented, opening his eyes and daring to touch his face as he heard her begin to rinse the instrument again.  
  
"I'm a girl. I have to be good with a razor." she replied.  
  
"You know, I just wish I had a camera." commented Uncle Bill from the doorway where he had been watching as he smiled at the two of them. "That was a real Kodak moment."  
  
"Hey, weren't you going to give me half an hour?" objected Sissy, blushing furiously.  
  
"Buffy and Jody _inhaled_ their breakfast. Right now they're pushing a wheelchair up and down the ward."  
  
"Why is it that they always behave when they're with me and never when they're with you?" asked Sissy, zipping French's bag and reaching for the crutches.  
  
"Did I hear the word 'wheelchair', sir?" asked French.  
  
Sissy helped him up and slipped a crutch under each arm. He looked oddly practiced in their use as they stepped back into the room.  
  
"Hospital policy." shrugged Bill. "I'll take care of the twins' stuff. You go grab 'em and get that wheelchair in here." he instructed Sissy.  
  
She nodded once and dashed out into the corridor.  
  
"You know, sir, for all of her previous misadventures, the underwear party and the roaming about the city to cite examples, she can be surprisingly grown-up and responsible at times." commented French.  
  
"And independent." added Bill with a chuckle.  
  
"She is unquestionably that, sir." French agreed.  
  
After a pause Bill coughed and asked, "You know I got back here as fast as I could, right?"  
  
"Of course, sir. And the children and I are very grateful, though I must confess that I am sorry to have precipitated this inconvenience ..." said French.  
  
"Ah, French, could've happened to anyone." Uncle Bill told him, cutting him off.  
  
"You must tell me about your trip back sometime, sir. I was very heavily medicated when Sissy explained it to me. It must have awful."  
  
"Well ... it was no picnic. You know how it is, French, when you have to get somewhere in a hurry and can't. It was like that."  
  
  
Meanwhile, in the hall outside Sissy had just confiscated the wheelchair that Buffy and Jody had been racing up and down the ward, taking advantage of Dolores's temporary absence from the main desk. They had zoomed by at a nice clip when Sissy had stepped into the hallway.  
  
"But it was my turn to ride!" complained Jody, who always seemed to play second fiddle to his more confident and outgoing twin sister, not to mention her doll.  
  
"I told you guys that you have to behave while we are here! Does that include racing a wheelchair? I don't think so. You two are just lucky that I'm not going to tell Uncle Bill what you were up to." she said, trying not smile. What would their uncle say? Well, no one had gotten hurt, so probably not much.  
  
She pushed the wheelchair into the hospital room with Buffy and Jody trailing behind her.  
  
"Is this really necessary?" asked French.  
  
"Oh, sit down and give me the crutches, would you?" Bill sighed impatiently as Buffy threw her books in her bag and slung it upon her back.  
  
"Of course, sir." said French as he complied.  
  
"Then I guess we're ready to get out of here." said Bill with a smile, passing Buffy and Jody their backpacks.  
  
"Finally." said Sissy with a laugh, stepping behind the wheelchair once again.  
  
Looking at her over his shoulder, French began to ask, "Are you sure ...?"  
  
"Buffy and Jody could always do it. They've been practicing." Sissy suggested with a gleam in her eye.  
  
"Never mind." replied French quickly.  
  
Bill watched for a moment as Sissy pushed Mister French into the hall, flanked on either side by Buffy and Jody, and he smiled.  
  
"This is my family." he said, reminding himself one more time about those pictures for his wallet.  
  
  
The End  
  
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A/N: This is it. No one reviewed. Ah, well. But there's still time ...  
  
  
  



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